


Bleeding Me

by Misanagi



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, Gen, Introspection, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-22
Updated: 2006-11-22
Packaged: 2017-10-12 16:18:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misanagi/pseuds/Misanagi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn't want to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleeding Me

He didn't want to see. There was no point in doing that, in having the images burned into his mind just so they could torture him every night for years to come. But he still deserved it so he forced his eyes over the carnage, over the body parts and blood and the empty desperate eyes of the dead and let those eyes look at him judge him. There was no use in apologizing now, he had done it as he killed them. Sometimes he wondered if he really meant it.

There was no blood on his hands other than his own. A couple of scratches and a few bruises were all the damage he had received from the battle; his hands were clean. His soul was the one covered with blood. He had knows when he had destroyed that first suit a little over two years ago that he was killing a part of his soul. After the battle had ended and he realized he was still alive, he had been forced to come face to face with what he had done: he had become a killer.

He had spent days locked in his room, thinking, counting, and realizing how many lives he had taken, multiplying that number by possible family members and understanding how many lives he had destroyed. Later, making the conscious decision to fight, knowing how much the guilt hurt, how deep it went, was signing away his soul.

The dead were the lucky ones.

Every fighter, every soldier, sacrificed at least part of his soul but only four others had been ready to lose it all. Meeting them, as much as a blessing it had been, was also another sacrifice asked of him. He loved them but they were lost like him; their souls were already pawned.

It made it more difficult to look at the remains, to remember the screams of the dead when he knew the others were doing the same thing, forcing themselves to see, killing their souls faster. They didn't deserve it.

He didn't want to see but he still forced himself to look at his friends as they watched the remains of the battlefield. He didn't want to see the hurt in their faces, the guilt, however hidden it could be but he did any way; he owed them at least that.

There were no words, just shared glances before everyone turned away to get ready for the next battle. Sometimes he wondered if it was worth it.


End file.
